


First Night Back

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-22
Updated: 2003-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1624607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neville seems to have a very inconvenient crush on Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Night Back

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jude

 

 

Title: First Night Back  
Pairing: Neville/Harry  
Summary: Neville seems to have developed a very inconvenient crush on Harry. Rating: R at least, the naughty boys  
Notes: Much thanks to my beta -- I'll credit you by name on my livejournal on the first of the month, darling. 

__  
First night back in the dorm. Harry was having another nightmare.

The boys in his dormitory had gotten used to them, mostly, but the first few weeks of a new year were always rocky; Neville, for one, had gotten used to the quiet of his last two months at home. 

The way the other boys managed the nightmares was to ignore them, usually. Neville wasn't even sure that Harry knew how often he woke them. 

This time was different, though. This time, Neville slid out of his bed and padded over to Harry's. He wasn't quite sure why he was doing it, and he was certain that Harry wouldn't thank him for it. 

"All right, Harry?" he asked sleepily. 

His only answer was a series of sharp gasps that signaled that Harry wasn't yet sure what was dream and what real. Neville stayed out of reach and kept a careful eye on Harry's wand. 

When Harry's breathing had slowed down, he said again, "All right?" 

"Oh! Neville. Yeah, all right. Sorry if I woke you," Harry murmured, still sounding a bit disoriented. 

"Don't worry about it," said Neville, as casually as he could. "Er, do you need anything? Glass of water, or something?" 

Harry blinked at him. His eyes seemed smaller without the glasses; his face looked peculiarly naked. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and standing up. 

Neville wrinkled his forehead. "I was offering to get it for you," he said, puzzled. 

"Oh!" said Harry. "Oh, well, I'm not used to be waited on. Go ahead," he said grandly, settling himself back into bed and gesturing expansively. 

Neville grinned and ducked into the toilet to run a glass under the tap. "Here y'go," he whispered triumphantly when he returned, remembering the other sleeping boys in the dormitory. 

Nodding his thanks, Harry seized the glass and tossed the water back. He gasped to get his breath back; Neville found the small sound inexplicably sexy. He blinked in surprise. Sexy? Since when did anything one of the other boys in his dormitory did strike him as remotely sexy? 

Since now, he had to admit, looking at Harry blinking sexily from under his fringe of rumpled, sexy hair and in his sweaty, sexy pyjamas. 

Oh, this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, worse than he'd ever anticipated. No way would Harry -- he couldn't -- he'd _kill_ Neville, absolutely kill him, but he probably tell Malfoy first and let him die of humiliation and shame and -- and Neville realised just how wild his thoughts had gotten. No one was saying he had to tell Harry, were they? 

"What's wrong, Neville?" Harry suddenly asked, distracting Neville from his panicked muddle of thoughts. 

"Eh?" said Neville absently, "What?" 

"You've got a funny look on your face," Harry explained. "Are you all right?" 

"Fine! I'm fine," said Neville hastily. "Fine. Yeah." 

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Sickle for your thoughts." 

"Not worth it," Neville said automatically. Harry looked at him sceptically, and Neville smiled, hoping Harry would just drop it. So humiliating. So embarrassing. So _tempting,_ he thought, looking at Harry's mouth, all open and pink and moving -- wait. What's he saying? Bugger. 

"Sorry, Harry?" he said. "Er, lost in thought for a minute there." 

"C'mere, I said," repeated Harry. "You look cold, and I don't want to go back to sleep just yet." A shadow crept over Harry's face, and Neville assented quickly, not wanting Harry to remember his nightmare. 

Neville slid between the sheets hastily, but stayed as close to the edge as possible. Hopefully Harry wouldn't notice -- it's a perfectly natural physical phenomenon, he told himself. Perfectly normal. But he still didn't want Harry to notice the tent in his pyjama trousers. 

"There's plenty of space," said Harry. 

"Oh, I'm fine," said Neville. "Er, looking forward to classes?" 

Harry snorted. "Still can't believe I got into NEWT Potions. McGonagall must've pulled strings with -- I don't want to talk about Snape," Harry said, interrupting himself. 

"Well, did you have a good summer?" asked Neville, persisting. 

"No," said Harry flatly. "Dursleys," he added, as if that explained it all. 

Considering what Neville had heard about Harry's relatives, Neville rather supposed it did explain a lot about Harry's summer. 

Discouraged, Neville couldn't think of anything else innocuous to talk about. He just looked at Harry, angling his body uncomfortably away. 

Harry looked at Neville for a long minute and did something quite disconcerting. Completely unexpectedly, Harry slid over from his seat on the bed and leaned forward to awkwardly press his mouth to Neville's. 

Pleased but startled, Neville leaned forward shyly into the kiss. Harry's lips were warm against his and he could feel Harry's breath. Neville tentatively moved his lips across Harry's and Harry responded in kind. Without even realising it, Neville brought a hand up to Harry's cheek, pulling him closer. 

The action served to part Harry's lips slightly, and Neville instinctively deepened the kiss. He felt more than heard Harry's gasp when their tongues met and parted, testing and tasting each other's mouths, exploring the depths of the kiss with growing heat. 

Neville was panting by the time their mouths parted, breathing harshly. Harry wasn't doing much better, Neville was satisfied to see. 

Harry blinked at him for a moment. "How -- Where did you learn how to kiss like that, Neville?" he asked breathlessly. 

"Oh," said Neville dismissively, "around." He let his hand fall from Harry's cheek. 

Harry's eyes sparkled at Neville as if Harry knew that what Neville meant by "around" was that he had practised kissing on his hand and into his pillow. Neville wasn't about to admit it, though. "How about you? Who've you been kissing?" he said defensively, to turn the subject away from himself. 

"Just Cho," Harry admitted. "But I really don't want to -- that kind of ruins the mood I was trying to have going here, you know," he added, attempting to look suave and not quite making it. 

In spite of himself, Neville laughed. Harry looked hurt. Neville curled a hand around the nape of Harry's neck, threading his fingers through the unruly dark hair, and pulled him close, pressing their lips back together. 

Harry swayed slightly at the unexpected movement and leaned forward to keep his balance, bringing his upper body flush against Neville's. This move, in turn, unbalanced Neville, still precariously perched on the edge of the bed, and he brought his other hand up to grab Harry's shoulder. 

The two of them teetered precariously for a moment until Neville fell heavily forward, pushing Harry onto his back on the bed and falling with him, unwilling to let go. 

Neville felt far more off balance feeling the length of Harry's body pressed against him than he had when they were about to fall over. Neville's hips dipped of their own accord and he shuddered. 

Harry moaned and thrust back. Neville broke the kiss, gasping. "Merlin!" 

"Harry," said Harry. Neville looked at him, confused. Harry grinned. "Harry, not Merlin. Don't you even know who you're snogging?" 

Neville rolled his eyes and pulled Harry's lips back to his to shut him up. He flailed around behind him with his left hand until he caught the edge of the bed hangings. He fumbled them closed behind him; he didn't want another light sleeper to be an unwitting observer. Although, honestly, he couldn't imagine Ron wanting to see him and Harry snogging. 

Okay, don't think about Ron, Neville thought to himself. Not when Harry's mouth is right there doing -- mm! -- wonderful things. He flexed his fingers behind Harry's neck and Harry hummed approval, shifting a little to let Neville stroke his neck. 

Neville ran his hand around to the front of Harry, gripping his shoulder. Harry seemed to like it, and Neville let his hand drift down until it was at Harry's hip, expecting to be stopped at any moment. Harry was breathing heavily, his breath hitching into Neville's mouth every time Neville's hand moved. 

Harry nearly arched Neville off him when Neville's hand finally brushed against his cock. Harry broke the kiss and laid there gasping as Neville explored, rubbing Harry and watching him try to breathe. Neville tried to deal with the thick flannel of the pyjama bottoms, and Harry seemed to read his mind, scooting down so Neville could help him push them down. He appeared to lose interest in the pyjamas once they were around his knees, so Neville ignored them as well. The issue just didn't seem important. 

Harry's cock jutted straight up in a very distracting way. Neville traced it tentatively and heard Harry hiss out a breath. He saw Harry clench his fists into the sheets on either side of him, keeping his hands away from his own cock in what looked like a tremendous effort of will. 

Neville took pity on him, and took a firmer grip, sliding his fist from base to tip, enjoying the rough glide. He leaned down and carefully licked at the head of the cock, glancing up at Harry to gauge the effect this had. He needn't have bothered; Harry's choked-off gasp was eloquent. 

Neville had only the vaguest idea of what to do next, but Harry didn't look like he was in any state to provide guidance. He went with his instincts, slowly starting to suck; Harry sounded happy, though incoherent. 

Neville had just hit a rhythm he liked, his mouth and hand moving in concert, when Harry jerked, gave a thin moan, and came. 

Neville didn't feel quite ready to swallow, so he drew back as Harry jerked, slowing the movements of his hand. He leaned up and kissed the sleepy-eyed Harry, nearly swallowing his tongue when he felt Harry's hand on his cock. It didn't take much effort on Harry's part to bring Neville off, between the soft, slow kiss and the insistent pressure of Harry's hand. Exhausted, they slept. 

Neville woke enough, an hour or so later, to creep back to his own bed before the other boys in the dormitory could wake. He congratulated himself on his stealth; he didn't trip once. 

The next morning, Neville saw Ron sidling up to Harry with that "please don't yell at me I don't want to fight (right now)" expression he seemed to have perfected by the end of last year. He overheard Ron say, "Silencing charm?" and fled, blushing hotly. He vowed never to look Ron in the eye again. 

At least, not until he'd brushed up on his Silencing Charms. 

5 

 


End file.
